A Life For Christmas
by Simpa007
Summary: The Doctor and Adelaide land on a planet that is right in the middle of its winter cycle. Snow falls and all seems cheerful, that is, until something begins to change the children of the small, Christmassy town.  Sequel to 'Times Change'
1. Chapter 1

**A Life For Christmas**

**AN: Hello readers! A great big 'Merry Christmas' to you! Here is the first part of my Christmas special. Hope you enjoy and please review.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Doctor Who.**

Chapter 1—

"Ta-dah!" The Doctor's voice can be heard through the blue wooden doors of the TARDIS as he heads out, onto the surface of the new planet.

I laugh and follow him. He spins a three-sixty on his heels with arms outstretched. Several, large flakes of snow have already nested themselves within his wayward fringe. Stepping out, looking down at the crisp, virtually untouched snow that crunched beneath my boots, I stuff my hands deep into the pockets of my red body warmer. I quickly look around our surroundings; eager to see where we are. The snow is falling gently for miles around, settling on the trees, the fences and, I notice as I shut the door behind me, the TARDIS even has a light layer of icing sugar-like snow, dusting over the blue wood of the roof.

I turn back, looking over The Doctor's shoulder as he faces me. We have landed at the bottom of a steep 'y' shaped valley, a village is nestled nearby, at the bottom of one of the sheer sides, the lights from the homely lit houses illuminates the villages crisp, white surroundings.

Looking up at the sky I'd guess that it was early evening, possibly about six, half six? Although it is not overly cold, wherever we are, I pull my hood up; covering and protecting my ears from the chilled evening air.

The Doctor, I notice, is already making his way down the slight incline, and is heading towards the village. Warming my hands by shoving them in my pockets again, I trudge after him.

After a few hundred yards, I begin to tire. The snow is shin deep now and I, being the unlucky one, constantly find the snow drifts, some of which are about half a metre deep.

"Slow down!" I call after him, "We can't all have the agility of a nine hundred year old Timelord." The last bit I mumble, but he apparently hears me.

Coming over to me, he gently tugs me out of one of the several snowdrifts that I have fallen into.

"No, I suppose not." He states.

In all honesty, I'm rather surprised that he had heard me, but I suppose Timelord senses are better than ours.

Brushing my jeans down (They are now rather soggy) I thank him and tell him to consider slowing his pace. He begrudgingly agrees with me and so, we head on our way again.

**)()()()()()()()()(**

Multi coloured lights hang from window ledges and roofs of the small, dark stone built houses as we wander through the thin, alley-like street. I can't help but look up at the twinkling reds and greens of the bulbs above our heads and the grey, night's sky further up. There are no stars but instead, deep royal blue swirls accompany the thin layer of cloud. It all looks very fairy-tale like and, in some aspects, it's a little too perfect.

My thoughts are confirmed as a panicked boy sprints towards us. He doesn't seem to notice us as he makes to run straight past, he slips however, and lands face first in the snow. This doesn't slow him down as he jumps up in an instant, spits the snow from his mouth and runs straight into me.

Before I know it, my back hits the ground with a dull thud. A load groan escapes my lips as I see the boy land just beside me, once again, on his stomach. It is then that he seems to notice me, and I him. I take in his appearance; dark, almost coal black skin, his unruly black hair means that his ears look almost non-existent, the odd lightness of his pale blue eyes clashes with his dark features. Other than that, he looks practically human.

"Why didn't you move?"

Taken aback by his abruptness, I answer sarcastically—

"Oh, so you did actually see me then?"

"'Course I saw you. Do you think I'm blind!" He pushes himself up, muttering, "Damn humans."

I don't have any comeback for that and so; I merely roll my eyes and drag myself from the floor. The Doctor watches the scene with amused eyes. I glare at him as he moves to steady the boy.

"Why were you running?" he asks.

The boy shrugs; indignant.

"Just felt like it. That a problem?"

Man, this kid is rude.

The Doctor shakes his head; he has that knowing glint in his eye again. The one that tells me that we have, once again, wandered blindly into some massive mess of trouble.

"No, you were scared, you still are scared." He pauses, "What's happened?"

The boys panic is evident again as he speaks—

"She just fell, just like the others did!"

"What do you mean?" I'm intrigued now.

"I told you! She just collapsed; fell face first into the snow. I rolled her over an' she had changed!"

"Show us."

The boy nods, "It's just 'round the corner."

With that, he pushes past me –I'm really beginning to dislike this child- and walks hurriedly back the way he came. The Doctor and I follow.

The Timelord clicked his tongue.

"Meklanes." He mumbles.

"The rudest beings in the universe?" I guess coldly.

"They can be surprisingly good willed, actually." He defends quickly, "Don't be so quick to judge. There were times when they were known as one of the most humble of races. They're just-"

"Ignorant?" I intercept his sentence.

He gives me a stern look.

"I was going to say misunderstood actually."

**()()()()()()()**

"There." The young boy pointed forward to where a young girl lay in the snow.

Slowly, cautiously, I follow The Doctor to where he kneels in the snow beside the unmoving child.

"What's her name?" He asks.

"Astoria." He answers simply, "Look, there isn't anything you can do. They all just stay like that!" He insists.

It is now that I really study her. Her bright white skin is almost the colour of the snow that she is laying on, her eyes are white as well but the most striking thing about is the blue lips, the colour seems to spread out, seeping into the surrounding skin of her face.

"I take it that she isn't supposed to look like that." I say.

"'Course she isn't! Are you stupid?"

I turn to the boy.

"I'm only human, I don't have a clue what's going on. You need to calm down." I say, trying to keep composed myself.

This whole deal is very unsettling already and we have only been here for about thirty minutes.

The boy scoffs before The Doctor asks—

"What's your name?"

"Patwin, sir."

He seems to be a whole lot pleasanter to the Timelord beside me. I don't know what his problem with me is.

"Patwin, where does she live?"

"At the home, with me. It's just down the road."

"A children's home?" I ask.

I instantly feel like the idiot as both the people with me give me a look that clearly says 'wasn't-that-obvious?' I sigh before turning to The Doctor—

"Carry on."

The Doctor nods as he continues—

"You can show us?"

"Of course!"

Quickly, The Doctor scoops the girl up from the ground and orders the boy to show us the way to the children's home. He agrees and begins to lead the way. I walk beside The Doctor through the small streets.

**()()()()()()()**

"Another one?"

A voice fills the air as Patwin pushes a large wooden front door open. We enter into the building behind the young boy. He nods.

"It got her!"

Patwin runs forward to a woman who, if human, would probably be about thirty five.

"Where?"

Patwin is clearly panicked as he answers her.

"Near the forge! She just fell!"

A new voice enters the conversation as an older man with darker, rugged hair wanders into the entrance hall.

"Just like the others." He states solemnly before gently taking the girl from The Doctor's hold.

"Others?" He questions.

The man nods, "She is the third to have fallen ill under our care. It has happened around the town."

He kneels; inspecting the girl for a moment. The woman that held Patwin walks forward.

"Hadvar? She is the same as the others?" Her voice is soft, almost cautious.

Hadvar nods, "down to the marks on the lips." He states quietly, "We should take her to her room. Patwin?"

The boy looks up, his eyes are damp with tears.

"Yes?"

"Did anyone see you?" His voice is dangerously low as he hauls Astoria from the ground.

Patwin stutters for a few seconds.

"Boy! It is important that no one saw you! Tell me, did anyone notice the two of you? Did anyone see?" Hadvar's voice is now laced with utter desperation.

"No!" Patwin answers quickly, "Apart from these two," he gestures to The Doctor and I before continuing a little quieter, "No one saw us, I swear."

Hadvar turns to us, "You are new to the town."

I nod, still a little speechless.

"She's human!" Patwin suddenly speaks, pointing an accusing finger at me.

I share a confused glance with The Doctor, he merely shakes his head. I suppose I'll ask later, then.

"Human?" The woman asks, she seems almost confused; Like it is a word that she has not spoken for a long time.

Hadvar looks just as taken aback by my presence but soon recovers. He nods.

"Welcome to Mirideth."

He walks forward, past the four of us and up the wooden stairs. The four of us stay silent and the only sound that can be heard comes from another room to the right of us. A few seconds later, and a taller girl with ash black skin wanders through the doorway with a shorter, younger girl. She notices us and freezes, laying an arm on the child's shoulder beside her.

"What's happened?" Her chin is held high, "It's got another one, hasn't it?" she pauses, "Who?"

She glances at each of our faces; searching for an answer.

"Miram?" She turns to the woman in her desperation.

"Astoria." Her voice was hushed and she swallowed.

The girl quickly ushered the child back the way that the two of them had come before –without speaking a word- running up the stairs, taking two at a time and following Hadvar.

The four of us stare after her for a couple of minutes and, once again, we are plunged into an awkward silence.

"I'm sorry," Miram's voice interrupts the quiet, "who exactly are you?"

"Ah!"

I almost jump at The Doctor's suddenly enthusiastic voice. I turn as he pulls out the physic paper.

"I'm Doctor… Smith."

Why does he always use that name?

He then gestures to me—

"My assistant, Adelaide Quinn."

"You're a Doctor?" Patwin speaks up.

The Timelord nods.

"Can you help them?" his voice is almost pleading.

The Doctors voice is soft as he answers—

"I can do my best."

"There's Lucian, he's upsta-"

"Hush." Miram interrupts suddenly.

"But he's different. They should see!"

The woman makes to speak again but this time, I interrupt—

"What about Lucian upstairs?"

"Nothing." She answers quickly, "The boy has an overactive imagination; thinks he saw Lucian walking the halls last night."

"But I did see him!" Patwin stresses, "I swear!" He pauses, looking desperately between his guardian, The Doctor and I, "Please, Miram! Just let them look!"

It takes a few seconds but eventually, the woman backs down. She pulls back a layer of fabric from her long skirt and pulls an old-looking key from a chain belt. She hastily hands it to me, mumbling something about not wanting to go up there herself and that she needs to take care of the children. I keep a firm hold on the brass object as Patwin leads the way up the stairs.

**)()()()()()()()()(**

I bite my lip as Patwin slowly unlocks the wooden door. The Doctor stands beside. He is bouncing on the balls of his feet slightly; clearly eager to see as to what is behind the door.

"Be careful. He doesn't like strangers." Patwin states before slowly opening the door into the room.

"Lucian?"

A quiet grunt echoes from the room as Patwin enters; beckoning us to follow. The Doctor moves first and, clearly sensing that I am a little nervous, gives me a small smile of which I return hesitantly.

The sight that awaits us in the medium sized bedroom is certainly a disturbing one.

At first, the boy was hidden; I was unable to see him in the darkness of the room. It was only when he shifted his position that I was able to identify him. He was hunched in the corner of the room, his knees pulled tightly to his chest. As he stood, a low grunt escaped his lips, as though it was physically difficult for him to stand.

Patwin didn't move, neither did i. The Doctor, however, moved freely and swiftly to the other side of the room.

"Lucian? Are you still there?"

His answer was a deep, hissed breath as the boy – who looked about thirteen- moved a step forward, towards The Doctor.

"I'll take that as a no, then?"

Lucian's head tilted quickly to one side, a painful sounding crack emanated from his collar bone and I wince.

"Lucian?" I say, still rooted to the spot.

The boy snaps his head in my direction.

"I will live."

I take a step back in slight shock. Patwin does the same and steps on my foot in his panic. The Doctor has backed up a few small steps as well.

"I will live." Lucian speaks again in an eerie, slow voice. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that it is not, in fact, his own voice, "I want to live."

"What's inside you, Lucian?" The Doctor asks, seemingly un-phased by the creepiness of the whole situation.

"You can help?" Once again, his head quirks violently to the side; intrigued.

The Doctor doesn't answer directly

"I can try to understand, Lucian. Help me to understand."

"You're lying." Lucian accuses.

Patwin slowly directs his face to me without taking his eyes off of the boy on the other side of the room.

"He's never talked before." He whispers.

I don't answer; far too fascinated in what is happening a few metres away.

The boy suddenly screams; a sound that is definatly not his own. It's unbelievably loud and I quickly stumble in shock and surprise at the sudden change of pitch of the conversation.

"We need to leave!"

The Doctor pushes both Patwin and I back through the door and out into the hallway where many people have gathered, presumably after hearing the painful sounding scream.

I quickly peek back into the room as the child is still screaming. Lucian writhes around on the floor; he is evidently in a great deal of pain. It has been a while since I have seen anything this disturbing. I am captivated by the sight, it is so wrong to stare at the poor boy, who is clearly in complete and utter agony, but I am unable to help it.

The door suddenly shus and this draws me out of my mesmerisation. I look up quickly to see The Doctor hastily locking the door.

"No one goes in there." He states.

Silence fills the hallway.

"Everyone understand?"

After a few seconds murmurs can be heard from behind me as people agree. After this The Doctor is flooded with questions—

"What happened in there?"

"-Why is he screaming?"

"-What did you do?"

The Doctor doesn't answer these questions, however, he merely grasps my shoulders firmly; trying to connect me with the real world again—

"Addie?"

I say nothing; still a little perplexed.

"Addie, c'mon. We'll sort this."

Slowly but surely, I blink myself back to reality.

Just as there is a knock from downstairs.

**So, first chapter done! Chapter two will be up around the same time tomorrow.**

**Hope you enjoyed and, as always, tell me what you think so far.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A Life For Christmas**

**AN: It's Christmas Eve! Can you tell that I am just a little bit exited?**

**Thank-you to Kie1993, animemonkey13 and Shadows in the moon for reviewing the first chapter!**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Doctor Who.**

Chapter 2-

This is beyond awkward.

I sit beside The Doctor on a rather uncomfortable sofa. He is literally twiddling his thumbs in tediousness. Miram sits opposite me as an actual Doctor begins to explain the danger in keeping one of the 'infected' hidden. I want to know more about this illness but I am utterly unable to get a word in as the Doctor drones on and on. He is old but looks as though he knows his stuff. It's just a shame that he is so completely, mind-numbingly dull.

Pretty soon, I begin to drift off; I honestly can't help it, this man's voice is just monotonous.

"Am I boring you?"

I feel like a child that has been caught yawning during a lecture. I open my mouth but no words fall from my lips. Things are starting to get very uncomfortable.

"Nothing to say?" He raises a grey eyebrow and urges me to speak with a roll of his wrist.

I grit my teeth, recognising the phrase; it was one of The Master's favourites…

No. I discipline myself. Now is no time to think about him.

I have no idea what to say. Luckily, The Doctor saves me… sort of—

"Sorry." He states before leaning forward to whisper, "She's a human."

I grit my teeth once again, this time in annoyance before grabbing the back of his jacket and pulling him back into the seat.

"Ah," The old man starts, "A simpleton, then."

It was less of a question, more of a known statement.

"No." I protest, just as The Doctor declares—

"Yes."

"Doctor." I growl.

"Anyway!" (He leaps from his chair and pulls me up after him) "We'd better be off!"

Quickly, he moves forward to shake Miram's hand, he mock salutes the other Doctor in the room before grasping my hand and dragging me behind him.

We pass Hadvar on the way out who looks extremely flustered as three rather burly men make their way up the stairs.

"Ah. Hadvar." The old Doctor's voice echoes from behind us, "I hear you have a walker."

The rest of the conversation is shut out as the wooden front door shuts behind the two of us.

When we are far enough away from the building, I pull my hand from The Doctor's grip.

"What was that?" I ask, still a little insulted.

"What?" He pulls on his jacket in defence.

I try my best to mimic him—

"She's a human." I repeat.

"Well? You are!"

Once again, I open my mouth to speak but find no retort.

Damn, I really need to think of some comebacks. Being speechless is getting old.

Instead of continuing, I change the subject—

"Why have we stopped?"

The two of us are now stood on the corner of the street, watching the building that we had just retreated from silently. It's a couple of minutes before a rattling sound nearby distracts me. I turn, searching for the source of the noise; there is nothing obvious and so, I turn back to the children's home, just in time to see something fly from a window on the second floor. It looks like a stool but I can't be sure. The window has smashed, sending shards of glass tumbling gently down onto the pristine white snow. I recoil a little in shock but turn back to the building as the front door is pulled open.

A man wanders casually out of the building with Astoria over his shoulder. The girl isn't moving or protesting but the language coming from inside the children's home tells me that someone is. Shortly after, another man follows the first, carrying a young boy. It is not Lucian; from the sounds still emanating from the upstairs bedroom, they're still having a bit of trouble with him.

Another long string of curse words –some of which I have never heard of- flow from… Miram's mouth? I raise my eyebrows; the words seem so unnatural to her. Hadvar holds her back, away from the, what could only be described as, soldiers.

"Come now," he begins, "Let them do their jobs."

As he says this, the third soldier, accompanied by the Doctor, waltz from the building. The soldier carries Lucian in a similar way to how his comrades carried the other two children. The only difference is that Lucian's hands and ankles are bound.

"What are they doing?" My mouth moves of its own accord.

Hadvar answers my question before The Doctor can, though he is clearly speaking to Miram—

"They are helping!"

A hand lightly grasps my hand. I turn as The Doctor gestures to a horse and cart. Well, not a _horse_ and cart. There is certainly a cart, but the thing pulling it is definatly not a creature that I know; the light grey skin barely covers the creatures bony frame, it's face is slim and long its nostrils are flared.

We begin jogging. Or rather, The Doctor drags me forward.

"What the…?" I am still focused on the strange creature, "What is that?"

The Doctor tuts.

"Later."

**)()()()()()()()(**

He zooms around the control room like an insane person; flicking switches, pulling levers.

"Hold on."

I am already doing so, for I know exactly what his landings can be like.

With a great thud, the TARDIS settles herself. A loud crash emanates from outside of the ship and I wince, as does The Doctor. He is soon to recover, though, and is quickly jogging towards the double doors.

Quickly, I catch my breath before following him out.

"Woah!" I falter; stopping my movements before I actually crash into his back.

We are standing in the middle of a pile of wooden shrapnel. It seems that The Doctor landed the TARDIS on a pile of crates.

"Good… effort." I say, slowly looking around my feet.

"Yeah…" he mumbles, glancing around also.

I scoff quietly; a little unbelieving of his clumsiness.

"Where are we?"

"A hospital." He stated simply, "Did you not see it? The big building? About one and a half miles from the children's home?"

"No." I say slowly, "Must've missed that." I eye him curiously as he holds his hand out to help me balance.

I take his grip and carefully step from the pile of wood. Steadying myself, I rub down my jeans. We stand at a 'T' junction of hallways.

"Which way?"

He bounces lightly on the balls of his feet before sticking a pointer finger in his mouth and holding it just above his head.

I frown; pretty sure that's how you tell which way the wind is blowing…

"Left." He quickly bounces that particular way and I follow.

"How did you…? Never mind."

He waves a hand over his shoulder; telling me that he heard me, but didn't really want to answer.

I follow him closely and almost lose my footing as he swerves right. I expect him to swing open the double doors but he stops, peering into the small, square window on the right hand side. I follow his lead, looking through the left window; a long room with white washed walls is filled with beds, they line the walls. Each has an occupant, a child and they all look the same; pale, with blue seeping from the lips. Two men (they look surprisingly human) stand by a bed further away from the double doors where we are, they look over an A-4 chart, just like a normal Doctor would.

I stare at the children in the beds; some are as young as about two, others are a couple of years younger than me. It is a sad scene, but is also interesting. How could so many young people be brought down so suddenly?

The two men leave through another exit and The Doctor slowly opens the door.

He moves quickly through the sea of unconscious children. He scans them each individually with the sonic. After each scan he declares simply—

"Same."

"So, they are all the same." I state, "Any reason why?" My voice reverberates off of the grey walls and the high ceiling.

"Nope." He stands, "I'll get there."

I nod as he runs a hand over his face; exasperated.

"Hands in the air!"

I freeze. The voice came from behind me. The Doctor moves to slowly place his sonic back inside his jacket.

"Move and I shoot her."

Okay, so the guns are on me. Why are the guns _always_ trained on me? I make to turn around.

"Don't move!" The person demands.

"Okay, okay," The Doctor tries to calm the situation. He puts his hands up, "What can we do for you?"

I curse his cheerfulness sometimes.

"You're trespassing." The man behind me states, "You will come with us…" a pause, "Banks! Take the weapon!"

Shuffling can be heard from behind me and pretty soon, a short man –about five foot four- walks past me and towards The Doctor. He pulls the sonic from the Timelord's grasp.

"You will come with us." The man repeats.

Someone grasps my shoulders forcefully. I look down to see thick black gloves holding me.

**)()()()()()()()(**

The pen clicked.

I bite my lip; sheepish.

The pen clicked again.

The Doctor cleared his throat awkwardly.

Another click.

I glance behind me, a tall man dressed in black stands by the door to the office. He holds a pistol tightly in his left hand.

Another click.

I turn back, casting a glance at The Doctor as I do so.

"So," Finally the man with the clicking pen speaks up, "You two thought that breaking into a high security zone was not a problem?"

"Yes… I mean, no." The Doctor begins to ramble as he stands, "Well, actually… yes."

He spins on his heels to face the man sitting behind the wooden desk.

"How would you like me to deal with them, sir?" The soldier by the door asks.

There is a pause, a long one.

"Oh, well, you don't need to deal with us at all. We're on our way-"

"Sit down, Mr…" The man paused, looking at the physic paper in his hand, "Smith."

The Doctor doesn't move and I literally have to drag him to his seat by the back of his jacket.

"She's a smart one, this," The man nods towards me, "Adelaide Quinn." He pauses, quirking an eyebrow, "Human?"

"As it happens." I answer quickly.

He merely nods.

"You're a Doctor?" He continues, turning to the Timelord after leaving a lingering glare on me. I only just manage to hold his gaze.

The Doctor nods.

"We didn't call a Doctor."

"No, you didn't." The Doctor states.

"You just happen to be in the right place at the right time?"

He nods again.

**)()()()()()()()(**

The Doctor lands in the snow a few metres away. After a couple of seconds, I too, am thrown forward. I land with a grunt next to The Doctor. I hear the door slam behind us.

"Well done." I say, pushing myself up.

"What?" He is quick to defend.

"Did you have to be so arrogant?"

"Is that what you think I am?" He seems pretty hurt, actually.

But I'm too busy; I continue to rant—

"Arrogant, egotistical, proud, self-centred, big-"

"Yes, thank-you." He speaks shortly.

"Well, we'd still be in there, wouldn't we?"

I stand and brush myself off, mumbling angrily to myself. It is then that I realise—

"We haven't got the TARDIS." I'm beside myself in anger now, "Good effort!"

He suddenly turns to me—

"Adelaide? Are you okay?" He pauses, "What's bothering you?"

"You're bothering me." I state quickly.

A quick pain rushes through my head and I double over, grasping at my forehead. He's by my side in an instant; holding me up. I call out as the pain intensifies.

It's not the drums, the drums are different. This is… something new.

I fall to the ground; on my knees, The Doctor mirrors me and holds my face.

"What is it? What's happening?"

I know he's talking to himself but I answer—

"I don't know." My voice is barely coherent as I grasp at the snow on the ground.

I bite my lip in order to refrain from screaming. The pain is overwhelming, it's like there's something else, something new inside me, inside my head.

"I will live."

I cover my mouth; that wasn't me? That wasn't me!

I'm sobbing now.

"Doctor?" That is me, "What's happening?"

"I don't know." He states quietly.

Another surge of pain and I grasp at my hair.

I will not scream, I will not scream.

I look back up, I can't see anything, the world is dark. Where is he? Where is The Doctor? I can't feel him, he's no longer touching my face.

"I want to live!"

This isn't me! It is someone else!

An animalistic scream erupts. It takes me a few seconds to figure out that it is, in fact me, screaming.

**Chapter two done!**

**Is there a point in adding another chapter tomorrow? Will anyone be online?**

**If not then a very Happy Christmas to you all!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A Life For Christmas**

**AN: Big thank-you to Kie1993, Shadows in the moon and animemonkey13 for reviewing the last chapter.**

**This story may end up more than a Christmas special and a little longer than I had first planned. Just letting you know.**

**A lot of dialogue here, hope you don't mind.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Doctor Who.**

Chapter 3-

A hushed whirring sound wakes me and, for a moment, I just lay there, eyes closed; calming myself and trying to regain my senses. The whirring stops and I continue to doze. I'm too tired to wake up, my eyelids are far too heavy. As my senses come to, the whirring begins again, and I recognise it.

My sheepishness shows as I try harder to get back to sleep; I don't want to answer questions on how I acted. It all comes back now—

"_Arrogant, egotistical, proud, self-centred…"_

I cringe inwardly. What the hell came over me?

"Addie?"

Yep, I definatly recognise that voice.

I make sure that my face stays still, not even a small twitch.

"Adelaide." He's becoming a little sterner now.

A sigh sounds from beside me—

"I know you're awake."

I merely groan in response before opening an eye. I spy him sitting in a small wicker chair beside the bed of which I now lay on.

He places his sonic back into his inner pocket of his jacket before turning to me, a patient yet questioning look plain on his face.

"Sorry." It is a hushed whisper, as my voice is hoarse, but it is definatly coherent.

I look down and bite my lip as he speaks—

"It wasn't you."

"No." I say quietly.

Another silence passes by before he speaks again, going back to 'normal Doctor mode'—

"You're okay. There's no sign of concussion or any other injuries."

I nod; still finding myself slightly awkward.

He stands, adjusting his trousers as he speaks—

"Something is going on here."

I cut him off; desperate to know—

"What happened?" He pauses, "Doctor, do you know what happened?"

"Something," He paused as he, once again, began to talk with his hands, "Something got inside you somehow, inside your head."

I frown, ignoring the niggling pain in the back of my head.

"So, why didn't I end up like Lucian?"

"Something stopped it."

Is it me or does he seem to be getting a little excited?

"Right." I say slowly taking it all in.

"But what?" He's in the middle of a ramble now, "What could possibly have stopped it?" He comes closer, "what could possibly have stopped something so powerful?"

The next thing I know, I have him in my grasp, my hands grip his jacket dangerously tight.

"Stop it!" The new voice screams, "Stop it! You're ruining it! You're ruining everything!"

He doesn't seem totally phased, but I feel as though I want to kill him.

"What are you? Who are you?"

"Just leave!"

As quickly and as suddenly as it came, it went. It takes a few seconds to actually realise what I am doing and, when I actually do look up at The Doctor's slightly shocked expression, I let him go; quickly releasing my grip on the tweed.

With eyes wide, I shake my head. I'm dizzy and, because of this, I miss the bed as I make to sit down. My backside hits the floor with a dull thumb. A small whimper escapes my lips as I land. The Doctor, having recovered from my eccentric turn, moves to pick me up off of the floor. He sits me on the edge of the bed and sonics me again. Irritated by all of this, I push the device away. He gently gets hold of my wrist.

"I need to know what is going on." He states softly.

After a little more persuasion, I allow him to scan me again.

"It's gone; can't get a permanent hold on your mind. That's why you didn't end up like the others."

I nod.

"Will it come back?"

He sighs and pauses for a couple of seconds.

"Probably." He states before adding, "but I can't be sure."

"Is it dangerous?"

From the corner of my eye, I see him shake his head.

"I don't think so."

**)()()()()()()()(**

"You followed me."

I freeze and stare at the back of his jacket. He turns on his heels, giving me an authoritive glare.

"I told you to stay."

I scoff, "I'm not a dog. And did you really think that I would?"

He pauses, judging what I just asked.

"Well, no. I suppose not."

I come to stand beside him, a spring in my step.

"Well then. Off we go."

As I walk, I sense that he hasn't actually moved. I stop and turn.

"Look," I say, "I really am fine." I bounce on the balls of my feet a couple of times to illustrate my point.

"It's not that…"

I stop as he continues, talking to himself—

"Something stopped it. Why are you different to the others?"

"You said once, about a time travellers mind being different."

"No, that's not it."

I gulp, what does he know?

"Then what?" I ask cautiously.

A dangerous silence falls between us before he claps.

"Anyway!" He takes two big strides forward and continues to walk.

It takes me several steps to keep to his stride.

"Where are we going?" Maybe I missed the obvious.

"The Woodhams household." He says cheerfully.

"Hang on a minute."

He turns, looking a little exasperated. I continue—

"Who?"

He thrusts a picture into my hand. I look down; a family of three smiles back at me, a young girl, about the age of fourteen, sits in a chair beside an older woman, a man stands behind the two of them, his hands resting on the backs of their chairs. The Doctor points to the youngest in the picture—

"Morgan Woodhams." He states, "Fifteen when she died."

I swallow, "What happened?"

"Hadvar says she fell through the ice; the lake was frozen over."

I look back up and meet his eyes.

"That's horrible."

He nods silently, "thing is, all of this happened- the children falling ill- merely a week after she passed away."

"You think she's connected? What gave you that idea?"

He shrugged lightly, "She boasted that she was able to talk to the dead."

"Ghosts?"

He scoffed, "No such thing."

Feeling a little foolish, I look back down to the photo. Clearly The Doctor, however, has continued to think.

"I will live…" He quoted what I had said earlier and I shiver, remembering the feeling, "That's what she said; 'I want to live.'"

"Yeah."

After a minute or two of silence, I slowly look back up; my hands shake as I ask—

"You think I was possessed by one of the dead?"

"well, not technically possessed, as I said; it couldn't get a firm hold on your mind."

The reminder of that makes me lower my eyes, away from his in slight guilt.

**)()()()()()()()(**

The Doctor knocks on the door and the two of us wait. He pulls out his physic paper and readies it just as the door opens. A woman's face appears, one that I remember from the picture. The Doctor holds out the paper.

"Good afternoon."

"What do you want?" She doesn't seem particularly happy.

The Timelord beside me hesitates as she looks from my face to his in questioning.

"We're here to talk about your daughter." He says softly.

Tears form in her eyes before she makes to shut the door. Rapidly, out of reflex, a hold my hand out, stopping the door from closing.

"Please." I say, "It's important."

It takes a minute of me with a pleading look to make her give in. Solemnly, she opens the door, only far enough for us to slip in. I share an uneasy glance with The Doctor before stepping into the entrance hall of the house.

"Jakon!" The woman calls for, I assume, her husband.

The man, recognisable from the photo that is now in my pocket, stepped out of a nearby room. He gives both The Doctor and I a questionable glance.

"They want to talk about…" The woman swallows, "Morgan."

"That's all anyone wants to talk about these days."

The woman leans forward.

"She fell through the ice! That is all!"

"We know." I say, trying to sound as friendly as possible.

"Why do people always question that!"

Clearly she didn't hear me.

She turns to her husband in desperation—

"Jakon! Tell them!"

He is clearly the calmer of the two and slowly he comes forward and gently rests his hands on his wife's shoulders. He gives her a delicate kiss on the cheek before nodding to the two of us.

"Please, come in."

We oblige solemnly and head towards another room to the left.

A warm, friendly looking living room awaits us. In fact, it is typically Christmassy; three dark green armchairs surround a large log fire, a thick, dark rug is laid in the middle of the collection of armchairs. I smile at the homely sight as The Doctor passes me and sits heavily in one of the chairs nearer the fire. I make to sit by him but he stops me as he speaks to the husband and wife—

"My assistant would like to take a quick look around Morgan's room."

The two were hesitant for a little while until Jakon nodded and spoke quietly to me—

"I'll show you."

**)()()()()()()(**

"I must ask you not to move anything too much. No one has been in here since, "He pauses, "Since…"

"I understand. It's not a problem."

Apart from the fact that I do not know what I am looking for…

I glance around the room; it's quite large; a small piano stands in the corner near a large window. He clearly notices what I am looking at and gestures towards it.

"She wrote her own. Music, that is."

I nod, he was clearly very proud of her.

"Would you like to listen? We recorded a piece she did a few months back."

I nod again, "If it is no trouble."

"Not at all."

Jakon moves over to a small cupboard, about the height of my waist, and leans forward. After a minute or two, he places something that looks a lot like a floppy disc into a light blue box on the bedside table. Within seconds a light, haunting melody begins to play throughout the room. It is definatly a piano solo, the rhythm moves quickly but at the same, it travels at an elegant pace.

"I'll… uhh… leave you to it." He shuts the door gently behind him and leaves me in the room.

Okay… what am I looking for? Why am I up here?

I make my way over to a small corner desk; it's a dark colour and matches the wicker chair beside it. Different types of drawing stationary line a dip in the wood; charcoal, paint brushes, graphite pencils, water colour pencils and some more that I am unable to name. Clearly she was into all different types of art.

Deciding that this would probably be the best place to start looking for… whatever I am supposed to be looking for, I open the top drawer and begin rifling through the odd pieces of paper covered in ink, and pencil sketches. Most are of the view from the bedroom window, some, however, are of people. She was rather good, actually.

Nothing in the top drawer.

I move down to the second drawer; some more pencils, another paint pot and some more drawings, mostly of the outside view. She was extraordinarily accurate.

Drawer three—

It's practically empty but for a small A5 drawing pad and an old looking pencil case. I gently open the pad; careful not to tear or brake anything. Inside is a montage of sketches on each page; one of those strange creatures that pull the carriages, a large Christmas tree, a holy wreath and plenty of other Christmassy thing cover the first page. The shading is brilliantly accurate and the drawing almost looks 3D.

I turn the page over…

And almost drop the book.

For, there, staring back at me is an extremely lifelike picture of a Rakoli.

I bite my lip and grip the pad tighter; my knuckles turn white as I grip it.

How can she know? How could she possible know?

I turn the page again;

A blue box.

A hand covers my mouth in shock at the sight of a sketch of the TARDIS.

Another page turn, another drawing that I recognise;

The Doctor.

It's perfect, right down to the ridiculous bow-tie. His eyes are even the right shade.

I turn the page again.

Me.

I blink.

How can that be me? I've never been here before. How is that possible?

"Addie?" The Doctors voice drifts up the stairs and I hesitate before answering—

"Yeah?"

"C'mon," his cheerfulness almost angers me, "We're off!"

Quickly and not really thinking, I stuff the pad into the pocket of my body warmer.

Calming myself and whipping my eyes of the shocked tears, I head off.

**Another chapter up! **

**How did all of your Christmases go? **

'**Till the next time!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A Life For Christmas**

**AN: A big thank-you to Kie1993, Shadows In The Moon, Waffles McTiny (Great name, by the way) and Descent Into Chaos for their reviews on the last chapter.**

**Okay, it has been far too long and I apologize profusely. You kind of have my Food tech exam to thank for this; I finished early and kind of wrote the chapter on my arm. Seriously, up 'till my elbow was just covered in writing.**

**Also, sorry if it's a little OOC, I'll sort that out soon; it's been a while since I've written eleven properly.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Doctor Who.**

Chapter 4-

The two of us make our way down the narrow path. Once again, the snow crunches underfoot. Quickly, I chance a glance at The Doctor's face. His features are set in a stern expression as he stares ahead of us toward a left turn in the road. His hands are deep in his pockets, his stride long. I frown; wondering what has upset him.

We walk a little further until he stops. His feet are deep in snow as though he has placed a lot of weight on them. I come to a slow, almost nervous halt beside him. He keeps looking straight ahead but his right hand falls from his pocket. For a moment it stays stationary by his side before his lifts his arm, palm facing upward as though gesturing for something.

I stay still and silent, merely staring at his outstretched hand. My face has paled; I can feel it and my eyes have widened a little, for he is definitely not happy with me.

"The sketch book." He states, his voice low and steady.

I run my tongue over my bottom lip, anxious. He sighs as his fingers curl, gesturing that he should be holding something by now.

"Adelaide."

That makes me move.

Deftly and quickly, I pull the A5 pad from inside of my jacket and place it carefully on his palm. He grips it and stays still for a second before carefully placing it in his inner breast pocket. He hasn't even glanced at it and, in fact, if I were to ask him what colour it was, he wouldn't know. His eyes had stayed ahead for the whole moment.

I clear my throat quietly after a few seconds before trying to reconcile—

"Do you know why I took it?" My voice is quiet.

He shakes his head and stays silent. I round him before reaching into his jacket and plucking the book from the pocket. I don't open it, I merely gesture for him to take it. He doesn't.

"Look."

It is then that his eyes snap toward me, a mixture of both anger and confusion flash through the green.

I then thrust it into his grip.

"Please."

Slowly but surely, his eyes drift downwards, it is almost as though he is cautious of something. He holds the book tighter in his hand and makes to lift the front cover.

A shrill scream interrupts and his head lifts quickly, almost like a meerkat on lookout. He deduces where the sound is coming from before passing back the book and heading off in that direction. Which just so happens to be the way we came.

I know I shouldn't, but I roll my eyes at the irritating timing before jogging to catch up.

However, with my agility not being quite as good as the Timelord in front of me and the fact that I am not feeling particularly like moving too fast, I am soon left behind and he has run off ahead. Sighing and breathing heavily, I slow my pace.

I have placed to notebook back into my pocket. Absent-mindedly, I place a hand on it. My thoughts roll back to the pictures inside. There were more sketches; I just didn't have time to look back up in the bedroom. Slowly, I run my index finger along the length of the spine before gripping it lightly and tugging it from my pocket. I place it in my palm and stare down at it. Would it be wrong to have another look?

Probably.

I pull a hand up towards my face and scratch at my bottom lip, trying to decide whether or not opening the book again will help. Well, there is no decision in it, it won't change anything.

My thoughts are interrupted by a crunching as somebody comes around the corner up ahead.

I lift my head quickly, a guilty look plastered on my face, but it isn't who it thought it was. The Doctor is still nowhere to be seen but a figure is standing a few metres away.

He stares at me calmly and I slowly move the book, to place it back into my pocket. I keep my eyes fixed on him and take in his appearance; cropped hair, close to his scalp, wearing all black.

It is then that I recognise him; he was one of the men that had carried Lucian from the children's home.

I gulp without really realising it. He stands there, one hand in his pocket; the other is brought up to his face. He runs a gloved thumb over his bottom lip; he seems to be almost studying me. I pin him with my best glare before deciding that I really should leave.

After a few more seconds, I turn and begin to make my way back the way that I had come. I can find The Doctor later.

He is still watching after me; I can feel his stare mining into the back of my head.

I pick up the pace, really not liking this one bit.

It is when I turn the corner that I realise that I'm probably stuffed. For there stands another one. He is tall but not quite as broad as his friend. Still, I only come up to his chest. He's about a metre away.

I step back, but do not turn and, because of this, I miss that fact that the first one is now behind me. My back hits his chest and I freeze before looking up slowly; sheepish and rather terrified.

He raises an eyebrow as he stares down at me.

I turn and step away from him. I'm an equal distance from both men now, though, I am still rather stuck between them.

"Can I help you?" I question quickly, not trusting my own voice.

"That building, up there." The second gestures to the hospital.

I nod without taking my gaze off of the two of them. He doesn't continue as the first gets a firm hold on my arm.

My breath hitches in my throat as I look down at his hand. He has my wrist in an iron like grip and I try to yank myself free. I only get more erratic as he pulls a pistol from his belt.

I struggle for a little while longer until the two look at each other. The one holding me rolls his eye before he brings the gun back, clearly preparing to strike.

Purely out of instinct- I swear, I didn't mean to hurt the man- my knee connects with his crotch. It does the trick and he releases me. I don't falter; I run past him and back down the road, slipping on the snow and Ice more time than I can count, I eventually come to a T junction. Making a quick decision, I head right. They're behind me now and I force myself to keep going.

My chest burns already; I really need to get fit, it's ridiculous. Perhaps The Doctor can find a massive gym planet.

Isn't weird what your mind thinks up when you're in major peril?

I take a sharp left turn and come straight to a dead end. Just my luck.

As I turn to face them, the pistol connects with my right temple.

I fall to the snow.

**)()()()()()()(**

I wake with a start and sit upright. It is clear that I had been lying on my back. My breathing is heavy as I look up, staring blankly towards a dark ceiling. My head feels heavy and my eyesight is fuzzy. In fact, everything is spinning. I blink a few times and wait, hoping that everything that should be stationary would just stop spinning.

After a few seconds, everything has levelled out and steadied. I lay back in silence and shake myself a little, trying to keep myself calm and rational. Okay, first things first-

What happened?

I close my eyes slowly and try to think; it's fuzzy but soon comes back to me—

Big guy. No; two big guys. Big pistol.

I feel the side of my head; my temple.

Yep, big lump.

A sudden though occurs and I sit up and dig my hand into my pocket desperately.

No notebook.

I growl low as a headache and the irritation builds and curl my legs up to my chest before resting my forehead on my kneecaps. My hair, still wet from lying in the snow, falls forward, in front of my face. I think through the possibilities of as to where the book could be. There are only two really; the soldiers have it, or it's still out there somewhere, lying in a snow drift.

_Tap… Tap… Tap… Tap…_

I frown under my fringe.

_Tap… Tap… Tap… Tap…_

Four beats, I note.

I shake my head; hell no, this is not happening now. It. Is. Not.

I look up.

**Okay, so clearly this is definitely not a Christmas special anymore, which in some ways is good; I have quite a few ideas as to where I can go with this so now I can write in more detail.**

**Thoughts, anyone?**


	5. Chapter 5

**A Life For Christmas**

**AN: Thank-you to animemonkey and Kie1993 for the reviews.**

**Quite a bit of dialogue, here.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Doctor Who.**

Chapter 5-

_Tap… Tap… Tap… Tap…_

_I frown under my fringe._

_Tap… Tap… Tap… Tap…_

_Four beats, I note._

_I shake my head; hell no, this is not happening now. It. Is. Not._

_I look up._

It is the first time that I actually notice the room; it is square, about two and a half metres in width, grubby mirrors cover the wall until about three metres up, where they stop, the floor is dark grey, this matches the upper wall, the bed of which I was laying on is black, the only light in the room comes from a small square skylight in the high ceiling. The room is about two stories high and there is no door, for what I can see, anyway.

_Tap… Tap… Tap… Tap…_

I remember the sound and turn to where it is emanating from; behind me.

At first, it looks as though it isn't a mirror, but a long pane of glass between two rooms, for a girl stands before me, she looks about fourteen or fifteen and she is tapping on the glass, a large smirk is spread across her face. After seeing my reflection my disorientation stops; it is just a mirror. But how can a girl be in a mirror?

_Tap… Tap… Tap… Tap…_

I cringe.

She giggles.

_Tap… Tap… Tap… Tap…_

"Stop it." I say quietly.

She giggles again.

_Tap… Tap… Tap… Tap…_

"Seriously."

Why am I threatening her? What could I do to her? She's probably not even there.

"Seriously." She mimics.

It is then that I recognise her; Morgan Woodhams.

So, I _am_ being haunted by one of the dead, now?

_Tap… Tap… Tap… Tap…_

"You don't like that sound?" She frowns.

I shake my head, completely and utterly bewildered.

"No?" Her voice is sickeningly sweet. Imagine honey poured over a chocolate bar, on top of a milky bar.

Yeah, that sickeningly sweet…

She pouts.

_Tap… Tap… Tap… Tap…_

"I rather like the sound of it." A grin spread across her feature and I step forward, my fists clenching.

"Tinker, Taylor, soldier, sailor, rich man, poor man, beggar man," she raises a hand and points a thin finger towards me, "Thief!"

My hand moves toward the pocket where the notebook should lie.

"You lost it, didn't you?"

I open my mouth to speak.

"There is no use lying," She interrupts, "I was there; I saw you take it." Her voice is dangerously low.

I try to change the subject-

"You're dead." I breathe, "How can you be here?"

She stops, frozen on the spot.

"I'm not." She says simply before I blink, and she is gone.

I don't like this, really, I don't.

"I'm here!" She sings and I spin on my heels.

She now stands in the mirror opposite, a large grin plastered on her face. She waves.

_Tap… Tap… Tap… Tap…_

She taps again and I force my eyes shut and take a deep breath. This doesn't help, however.

The sound that is forever hiding itself away in the depths of my consciousness returns suddenly.

_One… two… three… four…_

Quickly and angrily, I bring both of my hands to my face and let out a muffled, frustrated sob. This isn't fair.

She giggles, a sound that is far too honeyed.

"He liked you, he did."

I frown before realising who she is talking about. How could she possibly know?

"He liked to watch you fidget in fear."

"Stop." My hands still cover my face.

The pain in my skull increases.

"Stop it!"

I will not beg.

Hot tears roll down my cheeks, though I think they're of confusion. I have absolutely no idea what is happening.

I move forward.

"Stop it now!"

"It isn't me." She lies.

Quickly and, if I'm honest, without much thought, I bring the side of my fist to connect with the glass. A crack forms and spreads from my palm, a small rivulet of blood heads down the glass and towards the dark floor.

Someone grasps my face.

"Wake up!"

A slap across my cheek.

"Adelaide!"

Two more slaps, but it isn't Morgan, no. she looks just as confused as I do, almost upset.

Everything goes dark.

**)()()()()()(**

First thought.

Cold.

I shiver; dampness quickly seeping through my jeans.

My head's fuzzy, my face feels numb. I look around.

Okay, second thought; where the hell am I?

I shut my eyes again, a tired groan escaping my lips.

"Addie?" A voice I recognise speaks from above me, "Adelaide?" It's no more than a hushed whisper, "Adelaide Eleanor Quinn!"

Okay. I'm up.

Sitting bolt upright in the snow, I almost head-butt someone.

"Whoa… steady on."

A hand is laid on my back, another on my upper arm. I look up to meet the face of… myself?

"There." She steadies me, "See? That wasn't too hard, now was it?"

I take in the person before me; a dark, hooded cloak covers her brunette hair, she wears a violet dress with a corset; it's long, brushing the snow clean at her feet, her eyes are mine, only they are a darker green; more striking.

She takes in my, clearly bedraggled appearance before her eyes finally settle on mine. Brushing a lock of hair behind my ear she speaks, like a mother would to a child—

"What have you done to yourself?"

She suddenly holds a palm to my forehead.

"How's the head?"

The coolness of her hand seems to calm the pain that had intensified in the small, mirrored room. The room that is no longer there, I'll add.

"That's better, isn't it?"

I merely nod, my mouth hangs open. She laughs quietly; a small smile lingers on her lips.

"Try not to get into too much trouble whilst I'm gone." She states softly before standing and moving away.

She turns the corner and, eager for answers; I stand. Perhaps a little too quickly as, pretty soon, I'm on my backside again in the snow.

My head spins and I blink; trying to regain my senses. What just happened?

It is as though there is a piece of my memory missing, a piece of the jigsaw that just isn't there anymore. I bring my palm up to my forehead and blink. Shaking myself, I stand and support my stance against a nearby wall.

My eyes ache, like I have just woken from a massive doze. Well, I suppose I have. Or have I? In all honesty, I have no idea what is a dream and what is the real world, anymore. Am I dreaming now, or, was I dreaming just then?

God, I need a rest.

As if on cue, my knees buckle. I just about manage to catch myself on the wall, a small groan escaping my lips as I do so. Closing my eyes, I rest my temple against the cool brick.

"Addie?" It is a distant call, and I recognise it but I just don't move.

Another call, the same, sounds closer.

Good, The Doctor, now we can just get to the TARDIS and go somewhere else. I don't like Mirideth anymore.

I then realise that we can't, In fact, for we have no TARDIS.

I resist the urge to stamp a foot.

Footsteps come around the corner and a hand grasps my shoulder.

"Addie?"

"I'm fine." I mumble.

I doubt if it was even coherent.

"Wha-"He begins.

"Big men." I state, "Pretty sure that there was a pistol whip as well at some point."

He scoffs quietly as he steadies me.

"You're fine." He says, softly.

"I know."

That is all I say before I fall forward, exhaustion taking me.

**Thoughts? Queries? **


	6. Chapter 6

**A Life For Christmas**

**AN: Big thank-you to animemonkey13, kie1993 and Shadows In The Moon for their reviews on chapter five.**

**There may only be a few more chapters left for this story and then I'll begin work on the next one.**

**Also, there is quite a lot of dialogue in this one, apologies.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Doctor Who.**

Chapter 6-

I know where I am. It is pretty identifiable, what with the plain décor but the large, thrown like chair in the middle of the vast room. I am surrounded by television cameras but no one man's them. I am alone.

Very alone.

It's eerie and I don't like it.

Everything is a little… hazy, almost. Like it is not actually there. Well, at least I know that this is a dream; either that or it is some strange, twisted reality.

I spin, clockwise on my heels, hoping to take in the surrounding area, forcing back any memories that have now re-introduced themselves. For I do not want to think about it. I do not want to remember. All I need to do now is focus. Just focus, purely on what is going on and how to sort it.

"Hello again."

I freeze and my body goes numb with fear. It's him, how can it be him? My vision blurs in both shock and confusion

The voice suddenly changes and I turn quickly to see Morgan Woodhams lounging casually in the red chair. Clearly my bewilderment and vulnerability is well painted on my features as she takes one look at my facial expression and laughs fully.

"That will never get old!" She says before clarifying, "Sounding like the people they fear most? It really is a wonderful gift."

She stands and brings both hands behind her back as the world becomes all the more fuzzy. Morgan is talking, she's moving her lip, I can see, but I can't hear her. It is as though my senses are failing; I cannot feel the floor beneath my feet anymore and the air in the room falls thin. The young female in front of me sends a glare towards me; she knows what is happening?

With a roll of her eyes- evidently, she is annoyed- she vanishes in an instant. I am still left in the room, however as my head is beginning to ache, my pulse echoes through my skull before the world goes black for a second.

The next thing I know, I'm on my knees, kneeling on a glass floor. A familiar orange glow reflects my face in the glass, as well as my immediate surroundings. I stay where I am, waiting for the dizziness to pass as two booted feet make their way towards me. Before a hand is held out before me. My head hurts far too much and so I find myself merely staring at the outstretched palm.

"It worked." The voice says, I recognise it, "Addie, it's fine, it worked, she's gone."

I look up to see The Doctor standing above me, a small smile spreads across his features as I take his hand and he hauls me up, off of the ground. I cast my gaze around the familiar interior of the TARDIS. I'm still tired and so, my eyelids are heavy as I lean against the centre consol.

It feels soft to the touch, like plastacine that has only just set into place. That is definitely not right, that I am sure of.

The Doctor clarifies—

"This isn't the real TARDIS, I'm sorry but I need you to do something."

I refrain from groaning and instead, ask—

"What?"

"Morgan, she taps into people's minds (He taps my forehead with a pointer finger) and brings back memories and situations that have played a big part in the person's life. It's clever."

"Is it?" My tone is dry, uncaring.

"Yes, one frequency that allows you to move in on a person's memories. Find that frequency and you could control anyone."

"Pleasant."

He runs a thumb across his chin in thought and nods slowly.

"Doctor," I sigh, "What do I need to do?"

"Yes!" He stands upright, "Right now, I'm tampering with your mind-"

"-Thanks."

"I can bring your memories to the present and place you there."

"Right."

"But I'm unable to get a permanent fix because I am not you. You see?"

I stand in thought for a second before answering—

"I think so."

"Good. Imagine the TARDIS."

He moves towards me and gently holds my upper arm.

"We can't solve the problem without it, Addie Q, think of the TARDIS."

"I'm tired." I state, it isn't a lie, in all honesty I feel as though I've been drugged.

"I know, and I'm sorry but I need you to do this."

I look around; exhausted.

"No, just think of the TARDIS- Your room, the console room, big blue box that travels through time and space, driven by a bow-tie wearing madman." He grins, "C'mon."

Seeing that I, most definitely, need to do this, I shut my eyes and try to do as instructed. It's difficult, more difficult than I thought it would be, anyway. It's as though there's a block, a dark spot in my memory but slowly, the railing that I am gripping behind me becomes more solid. The coolness of the metal returns and the air in the room seems to become more breathable.

I keep my eyes shut, too tired to even bother checking that we're in the right place. After a second or two, I drift off to sleep.

**)()()()()()(**

The whirring of The Doctor's sonic screwdriver wakes me, yet again. I swear that is all he uses it for. A loud, irritated groan escapes my lips and I bat his hand away. He complies and moves back.

"The signal is blocked; Morgan can't get through, now."

I nod and sit up, spying the look in his eye; there's been a development.

"Since we got the TARDIS back, and I knew the frequency that poor Morgan was using. I could track it."

I raise an eyebrow.

"You know where she is?"

He nods slowly.

"But?" I roll my wrist, it's obvious that something isn't quite right.

"It's odd." He states, ""The signal is coming from a living thing. Like something that is actually alive."

"But Morgan died."

He clicks his fingers.

"Exactly!"

"Is this one of those times where you know what's going on and I don't have a clue?"

He bites the inside of his cheek in thought and nods.

"Great."


	7. Chapter 7

**A Life For Christmas**

**AN: Thank-you to Kie1993 for reviewing the last chapter.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Doctor Who.**

Chapter 7-

I stand alone as I look out over the rest of the town. It is still snowing, although, it is fine, barely noticeable. The small white flakes wet my eyelashes and I blink a couple of times in order to clear them from my face. Two large, black birds fly across the sky, silhouetted perfectly against the grey of the clouds. Smoke rises from the many houses' chimneys and so, a light layer of smog covers the rooftops, I am busy trying to decide as to whether it is beautiful or not. For the recent events have certainly cast a little bit of a downer on the whole 'Christmassy, cheerful village' look.

The Doctor had left me about half an hour ago to get washed and changed (Laying in the snow so often utterly ruined the outfit that I was wearing) whilst he went back into the children's home in order to explain to Hadvar the situation and how he was going to solve it. He has not said a word to me about his plan, as of yet. I doubt he actually will, at least, not until we're half way through it and are facing certain peril.

I turn my head in the direction of the large building as The Doctor steps out of the front door. He shuts it gently behind him. The light is faltering now and the darkness of twilight chases away the last few rays of the early evening sun. The Doctor comes to a standstill beside me and asks—

"Feeling better, now?"

I nod with a small smile placed on my features. He copies the gesture with a quiet mumble of _'good' _as he places his hands in his pockets. He seems to stand awkwardly, his eyes flickering from the horizon then to me. I sigh.

"The notebook?"

"If you please." He clears his throat.

I delicately drag the small, A5 book from the back pocket of my slim jeans. A small smile tugs at the edges of my mouth in hope that he will peek inside and see what I saw. I pass it to the side and he takes it in his grasp. His hand runs over the front cover of the leather bound book; he's contemplating on whether or not to open it. I bite the inside of my cheek as he positions it in his hands, ready to lift the cover.

"Doctor?"

A quiet growl escapes my lips and I quickly resist the urge to roll my eyes.

"I want to help!" It's Hadvar.

The Doctor is, already, hurrying me towards the TARDIS, calling behind him—

"And we're very grateful, but, in all honesty, there isn't much to do; just a quick tweak of a spaceship underground and it'll be sorted."

I raise my eyebrows in confusion; where'd a spaceship come into this? I thought it had something to do with dead people.

By now, the Timelord has swiftly pushed me into the blue box and has shut the door. He rushes to the console; clearly he wants to merely get on with it. Whatever _it_ is.

"_Doctor!" _Hadvar's voice is still coherent through the doors of the TARDIS, he's getting closer.

"_What are you doing in there?"_

The Door is pushed open quickly and Hadvar steps through, well, he would have done, had he not have stopped and stared around the vast ship. He reacted much like I did when I had first stepped foot in the vast ship.

I share a glance with The Doctor who grins broadly. Hadvar seems utterly taken away.

"Impossible…" He breathes.

"Improbable." The Doctor corrects.

Tentatively, the older man steps forward and blinks hard a few times. After a few seconds he realises that he isn't, in fact, dreaming and he looks at me before breaking into laughter.

"But… that's… that is magnificent!"

The Doctor has gone back to twiddling levers and pushing buttons.

"Hadvar, the door, if you will."

The man nods, eyes wide and slowly pushes the door closed. He leans his back against the wood and continues to stare in awe around the bronze lit room.

With a jolt, he falls to the floor. I almost would have to, had The Doctor not steadied me.

"Pay attention, Adelaide." He says, his voice quiet.

I glare at him as he rounds the consol.

I do, however, heed his advice and now grip the consol. I gesture to Hadvar, silently telling him to do the same. He stands warily and stumbles toward the railing closest to him.

The TARDIS shakes for a few more seconds before another jolt tells us that we have landed.

Hadvar seems to be frozen as both The Doctor and I make our way towards the double doors. The Timelord in front of me spins on his heels and throws me a thin, black torch. I fumble but eventually secure a good grip on the device. He then throws one to Hadvar, who seems to have recovered slightly as he catches it without too much of a problem. We exit the ship.

Hadvar breathes in deeply.

"We've moved…"

"Yeah," The Doctor answers, "We do that."

We're met by a dark corridor. Well, that was what it looked like, but on further inspection I realise that it is not, in fact, a corridor but a tunnel, a cave. Uneasiness creeps in and I step a little closer to The Doctor. He sends a small smile of reassurance my way before shining his torch down the dark, muddy tunnel. No signs of life show as I do the same with my own torch. Nothing, it is utterly silent.

"Any guesses?" The Doctor questions.

I shrug, "Hyperactive mole?"

A smile tugs at his lips before he turns back to the dark.

"I meant as to which way we should go."

"Not a clue." I answer simply.

He waves a hand behind his back gently and I share a confused glance with Hadvar.

"Keep your voice low."

He's whispering now, he wasn't whispering before. Why is he now?

"Why?" I question, matching his tone.

"There's something in the dark."

"What?" Hadvar speaks up.

He is rooted to the spot, as am I. Something is moving behind us in the pitch dark. I can hear it shuffling; feel its eyes on us but I dare not move for fear of startling it.

"Don't know." The Doctor speaks slowly.

The shuffling behind us stops and the feeling disperses. Whatever was watching us has gone, moved away.

Is that a good thing or a bad thing?


	8. Chapter 8

**A Life For Christmas**

**AN: Thank-you to Kie1993 for reviewing chapter seven.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Doctor Who.**

Chapter 8-

We've split up, just for a couple of minutes; there was a split in the cave system and there were, apparently two signals. I was to follow the first, weaker signal, whilst Hadvar and The Doctor had gone to investigate the larger, stronger of the two signals.

The torch that I hold in my grip does well to keep the darkness that surrounds me at bay as I wander through the dark passageways of stone. The small detector that-t The Doctor had given me before leaving bleeps shrilly and I quickly glance down. I need to turn right, I am closer now.

Another quick sound of scratching against the rock sounds from behind me and I spin quickly, trying to spy what it was that is following me. There is nothing to be seen but I wait for a few seconds, urgently trying to gauge the amount of danger that I am now in. The tunnel stays silent, and the darkness keeps still. Nothing moves and there is no sound apart from my, now, slightly erratic breathing.

Another bleep sounds from my pocket and I fumble with the small device.

Doing as it says, I turn left into a thinner corridor of stone. A large wooden door cuts the route off. I check the device, yep; definitely through the creepy, wooden door.

I step closer and take a good look, noticing the large padlock, about the size of my fist blocking my entrance. I exhale deeply before glancing around; hoping to find something to break the lock. A rock, about the size of a tennis ball, lies nearby. I pick it up and check behind me quickly. Placing the torch in between my teeth, I grip the rock before hitting it against the padlock.

Nothing happens and so I try again.

This time there is a metallic sounding click as something in the lock's mechanism breaks.

I try another time and this time the padlock falls to the ground. I take the torch from my mouth and sigh happily.

Feeling a touch like Lara Croft, I open the door.

The room that I find myself in is dark, much like the rest of the tunnels, but there is one difference; a light blue, almost turquoise, glow is cast over the dusty ground. Something, both the size and shape of a fridge is fixed into the stone wall at the opposite side of the room. The glass at the front is frosted up, meaning that I am utterly unable to see whatever is kept in there. The signal bleeps again from inside my back pocket, something important is definatly in the fridge thing.

I step slowly forward, keeping an eye out for whatever is wandering around in the cave system. As soon as I am in front of the fridge (I will call it that until I am proven wrong) I bring a palm up to the glass, as suspected it is freezing to the touch and I withdraw my hand in a little bit of shock. A strange snuffling sounds from under the door through which I came. I turn and, seeing movement, instantly back away from the centre of the room, searching for somewhere to be hidden. There isn't really anywhere apart from a small inlet, could I fit in it?

I'll certainly give it a go.

Luckily, after a tiny bit of struggling, I have fitted snugly into the inlet. My arms are in front of me, the gap is that small.

The door slowly opens.

I switch off my torch and am instantly plunged into darkness. How powerful was it?

Growling fills the room before a loud sniff echoes through the air. I try to shrink back but fail as another snarl, closer this time, sounds.

The room suddenly falls silent, not even the creature's breathing can be heard, just my own. Where has it gone? I wait a few minutes; desperately needing to know if I am, in fact, alone again, before I slowly flick the torch back on.

I stop and I wait.

There isn't anything else in here, not that I can see, anyway.

Cursing quietly as my knees crack, I stand slowly and immerge from my hiding place. The heavy wooden door is still open and I start forward in order to close it- early warning system and all that. Before I reach it, however, I notice to footprints in the dust. They are in the middle of the room, scratch marks accompany them before they turn and head back to the door. I follow them and close the entrance after making sure that I am alone.

I lean against the wood and try to control my breathing. My heart still beats quickly but I can feel myself calming down.

That is, until something lightly lands on my shoulder. I freeze. It is a liquid, I know that much. Another drop and I turn to look at the sleeve of my hoodie. A gloopy, cloudy liquid drips from my elbow and onto the dirt.

It is then that a low and slow growl erupts from above me. So that liquid would be saliva, then? My whole body tenses and my skin turns cold. A shiver creeps its way up my spine as I turn my head towards the ceiling.

The next thing I know, I am on the floor and on my back, something heavy and slightly slimy claws at my face and collar. Its screeching fills the empty air as the breath is knocked from me. I catch a glimpse of its grey body fly across the room. Its blood follows it. It seems that I hadn't registered the gunshot that killed it.

I merely lay there, I feel paralysed. Lazily, my head turns to the side; someone stands in the corner, holding a large, black pistol. It's a female, wearing something like a cloak over a close fitting outfit. I drift in and out of consciousness as she speaks—

"Do I have to do everything myself?"

She seems pretty ticked off, actually and, I would frown but, in all honesty, my face is not doing what I want it to. It's almost completely numb; I can't feel a thing on my face. It is now that I realise that I can't actually feel anything; my legs, my arms, everything is numb.

She's kneeling by me now and shock fills my blood stream instantly for, it's me. Actually _me_ keeling above me. This is ridiculous, I must be hallucinating, this can't be real. I try to make words but all that comes out is an incoherent groan. She places a light finger on my lips.

"No point in trying, love."

My eyelids are heavier now as she continues—

"Paralysing venom; clever." She looks me over before adding; "You'll be fine in about half an hour, don't panic."

I am absolutely fascinated with her, she looks exactly like me, although, a little bit darker and her eyes are brighter, other than that, she _is _me. She pats my hand.

"I'm Natalia and it is a pleasure to meet you, Adelaide."

My eyes close as her voice fills the room once more—

"Until the next time."


	9. Chapter 9

**A Life For Christmas**

**AN: Thank-you to Kie1993 for reviewing the last chapter.**

**There is something that I want everyone's opinion on. I'll explain at the end.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Doctor Who.**

Chapter 9-

"Addie."

It is a hushed but urgent voice; The Doctor.

"Addie. Get up."

I groan and shake my head, much like a child who won't get out of bed. I hear him laugh above me, although it is very quiet.

"Adelaide. You're fine, now get up."

I now open my eyes and he grins.

"Paralysation!"

I wince at his loud voice and sit up. Running a hand through my, now messy, hair, I gesture to the large fridge in the wall.

"The bleepy thing," I say "it showed something in there."

"My lords!"

Hadvar has clearly opened it and I turn my head to see the contents of the fridge. A hand flies up to cover my mouth in shock of what I see.

"What?"

"-Morgan?"

"-What?"

Hadvar turns.

"Doctor, it's her."

"What?"

"Addie!"

The Doctor turns swiftly and covers my mouth with a hand. Clearly my constant questioning wasn't helping. I roll my eyes and push his palm away with a huffed _'fine'_ as I stand.

"How does that work?"

The Doctor follows and stands beside Hadvar and I.

"I don't… know." He answers me slowly.

He is completely perplexed with the girl in front of him. In fact, each one of us is. She isn't awake, in fact, she doesn't even look as though she is alive; her eyes remain open, staring into nothingness and her skin is a deathly pale colour. The Doctor pulls his screwdriver from his jacket pocket and begins sonicing a certain, specific area of the stone wall, beside the fridge. A thin piece of rock, about the size of an A4 pad, slides to the left suddenly. Hadvar jumps beside me.

"A sonic probe." He says in bewilderment.

"Screwdriver." The Doctor corrects, although he is clearly distracted.

I lower my head to see what he is looking at. It looks like a modern computer screen with a 3d logo spinning slowly in blue on a dark background (Three triangles joined together in the middle). He sonics again and this time, the screen changes to something completely different. To me, it looks like something from a hospital; measuring a person's heart rate and such. There are three neon green lines, each with a different symbol beside them(I assume that it is some kind of lettering). The Doctor points to each individually, starting from the top.

"Heart rate, soul activity and brain activity."

"Soul activity?" I question.

He waves his hands in a disorderly fashion.

"New-fangled technology- don't worry about that, worry about this."

He points to the bottom line which is moving at a great speed.

"Brain activity is through the roof."

"But," I gesture to her heart rate which is unmoving, "She's dead. How can that be right?"

He scratches his cheek in thought as he studies the frozen body of the fifteen year old girl. I take this time –whilst he's being his usual clever self, that is- to glance around the room. I am shocked to see that the body of the strange creature that had attacked me gone. The blood from its head wound has disappeared and there is no sign that there was actually a body there. That is, save for the footprints leaving the cave that we are in. My mouth falls slightly open in confusion; she had shot it in the head, it was dead. I was sure of it. Positive.

So where the hell was it now?

"Addie!" The Doctor claps loudly and I fall from my thoughts.

"Yes?"

"You saw her. When you were asleep, you saw Morgan."

I nod. Where was he going with this?

He shakes his head, "No, you didn't. You saw what they wanted you to see. It wasn't Morgan. They were reaching out to you with her mind. It wasn't a ghost, merely a projection of her."

He looks at me as if he thinks I understand. I shake my head.

"Now in simple terms, please. If you could?"

He looks a little put out but does as he is asked.

"When using somebody's mind to get to someone else, a lot of energy is used up, this energy needs to be contained somewhere," He is waving his hands around now, "Like a cupboard, a box. So they create a box that would make sense to the person that they are trying to get to. They created a box in the shape of Morgan Woodhams!"

Hadvar and I share a look of absolute confusion before turning back to The Doctor.

"Right," I'm slowly getting it, "So instead of being 'haunted' by something unknown, with this box thing, as you put, people think that they're actually being haunted by a ghost."

"Because it's more rational than merely hearing voices!" Hadvar finishes.

The Doctor clicks his fingers.

"Exactly!"

I run an exhausted hand through my hair- I haven't had to think that hard in a while.

"But, why?" I question, "And who are _they_?"

He stands a little straighter; a smile I recognise graces his features slowly.

"Why don't you come and have a look?"

**)()()()()()()()(**

I'm kneeling beside The Doctor, behind a large boulder. A vast cave system stretches out before us. It's bustling with life as beings, each about seven feet tall go about daily business. It looks like a lively market square, with stalls selling chickens and others selling fruits and vegetables. There is a large thrown towards the back of the cave, in front of, what looks like a very large set of double doors. The doors have intricate carvings, painted in a dull silver colour.

The beings themselves are unidentifiable, for they all wear black, hooded cloaks, leather boots cover their feet and their faces are hidden by their dark hoods. For a moment, we just survey the surrounding area. The beings have actually made a habitat out of the cave and the funny thing is, it seems to be working well.

A click sounds from behind us and we freeze. A gruff voice orders—

"You will stand."

Something hits The Doctor roughly on the back and we turn to see three of the beings behind us. Each are holding a strange looking gun. It looks something like a sniper rifle only more… alien (Definitely for want of a better word). Now that they are closer, I can see their faces—their skin is a deep red colour, their eyes are the same. Small, blunt horns patrood from random areas of the skin although each has one on their chin.

"You will stand!" the middle one repeats its earlier demand.

"Yes!" The Doctor leaps upright before grapping my hand and pulling me up with him, Hadvar also stands a little gingerly beside the Timelord.

The Doctor then waves his hand in a cheerful way and I resist the urge to roll my eyes at his friendliness.

"Doctor?" I lean towards him, speaking quietly, "What are they?"

He makes to answer me but is cut off by the loud demanding voice of the middle alien.

"The human will not speak!" The gun is raised quickly towards my face and my hands spring up of their own accord in surrender. I probably look ridiculous.

I gulp whilst staring down the barrel of, yet another, gun.

**AN 2: I'm sitting here, planning the next story for Addie and The Doctor and I'm wondering how you would feel if I brought back Jack. It may be for the whole story, it may not, I'm not sure yet. Anyway, did you think that I managed to write him well enough in 'Times Change' to bring him back into the story? **

**I kind of need your opinions, if you would.**

**Thank-you, in advance.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A Life For Christmas**

**AN: ****Firstly, a massive apology for the wait. So… yeah, I am actually still alive. Hi!**

**Also, thank-you to kie1993 and Shadows In The Moon for reviewing the last chapter and thanks to all of you who have stayed with me throughout the weird, un planned hiatuses. You're all awesome.**

**And- shameless self-advertising ahead, fair warning- I have just added chapter four to my other Doctor Who fic, 'Seeker'. Check it out if you feel the need.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Doctor Who.**

Chapter 10-

The three of us are manhandled towards the thrown at the back of the vast cave. The large group of, so far, unidentified beings seem to part as we are herded towards them. Young children's eyes follow our little group, their mouths hang open a little; clearly they have not seen humanoids such as us before.

I change a smile towards one of them- wanting to show that we aren't any kind of threat, they are only children after all- the merely continue to stare; utterly perplexed with our presence.

Soon, we are brought to a halt, about a metre or so from the large, wooden throne. A strange, yet intricate pattern is carved all over the dark, well varnished wood. It may not look too comfortable but, I have to admit, it's pretty.

A loud, high pitched 'beep' sounds from my right; from inside The Doctor's jacket and I frown. He, however, keeps the picture of innocence on his features. Although, I can tell that he had heard it- for he is now bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, his eyes had quickly snapped downwards at the sound before he continued to look forwards.

"What is it, Greghan?" A deep but, most certainly female voice has now filled the cave.

The guard behind me now stands a little straighter, lifting his chin slightly.

"Imposters, madam Alraz." He answers quickly, gesturing to the three of us.

It is now that I turn to see her as she sits calmly. An elegant, deep blue gown hangs from her slim frame, the sleeves are wide and loose, detailed finely with the smallest of silver gems that seem to shimmer in the dim light when she moves even the slightest inch. Her skin is a much deeper red than her companion's, almost the colour of mahogany, and her eyes are definitely darker, more infinite almost, than others.

With a majestic, yet dramatic wave of her hand, the crowd fall silent before dispersing; all leaving down separate corridors of rock. We are now left alone in the large cavern.

Greghan continues—

"One of our scouts found this one (I am hit in the back, hard) inside our security zone." He seems pretty angry, actually. I now feel as though I've come of worse in The Doctor's plan.

I swallow as the elder leans forward in her chair. She inspects me.

"Human?"

In answer, I nod.

"And tell me, girl," She virtually spits the word, "what were you doing there?"

I open my mouth several times, for I have nothing planned in answer. Luckily, and I will thank whatever powers exist, The Doctor answers her question for me—

"Yes!" I wince as he claps loudly, "Well, that was my fault, really. You see, back up on the surface, there's a problem and, using my ship's sensors I was able to locate the cause of this problem." He now steps forward, "I know it's you, Alraz. What have you done to the children?"

Hadvar looks more confused than ever.

"You think it's aliens, Doctor? Aliens making our children ill?"

"Yes, Hadvar, of course."

Alraz has brought a hand to her chin, both amused and intrigued.

"Ah," She begins, "A native. How are the children."

She's mocking him, and he is not happy about it, that much I can see in his eyes.

Hadvar seems to snap. He runs forward toward her in a blind rage.

"What have you done to them? What have you done you-"

He falls to the floor in less than a second as an orb of red light strikes him in the chest. The last sound he makes is a loud, strangled grunt of pain.

My hand flies to my mouth as I look from Greghan- who fired the shot- to Hadvar, his body numb on the floor. My eyes have grown wide and the room is silent. I bring my palm form my mouth, just enough to ask—

"Doctor, is he…?" My throat has tightened and my voice is hoarse.

The Doctor has knelt by him. The sound of the sonic screwdriver echoes off of the stone.

"No." He answers, "Just heavily sedated."

The pure relief in his eyes probably matches that in my own as he runs a tired hand across his face.

"Stop this." His voice is quiet but demanding. He stands, "I can help. You have a duff ship, yes? I can fix it."

"You would not want us to leave, Doctor."

At this, the Timelord quirks an eyebrow. Alraz clarifies—

"If we leave, the children will not be complete."

"What are going to do with them anyway?" I've managed to take my eyes off Hadvar to question her.

"We need a new civilisation, they need leaders." She answers as though it is the most obvious thing, "They do not have counsels."

"This village may not." The Doctor begins, "But there is a whole planet out there, a whole planet full of civilisations, much bigger than this one village, Alraz, and what do you think they'll do when they discover you?"

Alraz gives him a blank look; pulling the I'm-too-high-and-mighty-to-care expression.

"They'll fight." The Doctor answers his own question, "If you wanted to have a better chance, there is one thing that you never do, I would've thought it was obvious, actually. Wouldn't you, Addie?"

I nod, trying to act as though I have a clue as to what he's on about.

"And what is that, Timelord?"

"You never take their children." He shakes his head at her apparent incompetence, "They'll fight to the death, Alraz-"

"They will kneel." She counters.

"They will die!"

I flinch visibly at the sudden change in his tone. He softens his emotions, now and, taking a breath of exasperation, he continues—

"And then who will you rule?"

Alraz merely stares at him. Man, she needs to get off her high horse…

"Exactly. So, it would be better if you let me help you."

"Fifteen percent." She suddenly says.

"What?" I'm confused.

Alraz keeps her gaze solely on The Doctor.

"Fifteen percent of the children will be lost."

**I'll admit, I'm not a massive fan of this chapter but then, I kind of suck at writing the endings.**

**Still probably another couple of chapters to go, though.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A Life For Christmas**

**AN: Okay. So, not exactly a Christmas special. Not quite sure what to say about that.**

**This is the final chapter, however, and I'd like to thank all of you for alerting, favouriting and reviewing. I'd love to get some new reviewers on this last one. So, tell me what you've though of the fic, yeah?**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Doctor Who.**

Chapter 11-

I am sat, legs crossed, beside The Doctor as he fiddles with something under the control panel.

It turns out that the ship sat behind the throne of Alraz. The large double doors that I had spotted led into it.

The ship itself is quite grand, as was expected after seeing the proud beings that owned it. Everything is coloured a deep blue, almost navy. And when I say everything, I mean everything; the floors, the seats, the control panel. It was merely the outside that had been designed to look like a massive lump of rock, and not a particularly attractive lump of rock, either.

So far, neither The Doctor, nor I have been told what they are. They have, however, explained that the fled from their own planet, in order to find an empty place to call their own. Apparently, though, since their ship had crashed, they'd decided to make do with what they were given.

Alraz's words repeat in my head. Fifteen percent, is that a lot?

I am trying to look on the bright side of the situation. For, The Doctor has decided the loss would be much greater if we left them to it. I agree, of course, but part of my conscience, my humanity, is telling me to stop him; to argue with him, explain that there has to be another way to help these aliens.

A large spark flies through the air and breaks my concentration suddenly. I blink a few times; regaining my hold on reality before I lean forward, under the consol. Only to find The Doctor shaking his hand and pulling a rather odd expression. A small laugh escapes my lips.

"Everything alright?" I question.

Another, smaller spark erupts then and I dodge out of the way, as does the Timelord beside me.

"No." He answers, "Something's wrong with the…" He trails off and I frown before pulling myself back, as he does.

"Doctor?"

"Hmm?" He doesn't look at me.

I roll my wrist.

"Something's wrong with the…?"

He sighs; shoulders slumping, eyes closing. He slowly brings a hand to the bridge of his nose.

"I don't know." He finally says, sounding utterly dejected.

I open my mouth to speak but I'm interrupted by a groan coming from behind us. I spin on the floor to see Hadvar stumble in. He holds a hand to his stomach as he walks; clearly in a great deal of pain. I smile.

"How are you feeling?"

He grunts before lowering himself heavily to the ground about a metre or so away from us. He shakes his head quickly, apparently clearing it.

"What was that?" His voice is hoarse, weak.

The Doctor speaks up, now—

"A powerful paralysis." He answers, "A heavier dose of what was added to Addie's blood stream when we found her earlier."

"Yeah," I add, "They just haven't invented needles yet."

Hadvar scoffs, "Well, that would have been less painful, I have no doubt."

I grin as he turns to The Doctor—

"And you? What are you doing?"

I don't hear The Doctor's answer, for a sound suddenly fills my head. The shock of it makes me wince and reach for the edge of the console to support myself. I close my eyes tightly.

_One… Two… Three… Four…_

I shake my head; desperately wanting to clear the sound out of my skull. Of course, that does nothing other than make me dizzy. It's at a persistent level of pitch now, and it's far too loud for my liking.

This time, it's different, though. With the sound come memories. Memories of The Master, of the stoning. Things that I would very much like to forget. His name flashes through my subconscious and it takes all my strength not to cry out in pain and confusion.

_"Now, what could possibly be different about you?"_

_He slowly tilts my face, first to the left and then to the right. He has a firm hold on my chin as he finally settles his eyes on mines. I feel as though his glare bores into my very soul._

_"I'm going to try something."_

_I really do not like the way he says that. His hand moves from my chin to my temple and he releases my wrist as his other hand moves to mirror the first. I struggle hard to release myself from his grip but to no avail. An idea suddenly pops into my head and I position myself, ready to kick him in the shin, but it seems that I realise this far too late; his forehead connects with mine and my body falls weak. I can't help but close my eyes as a distant sound enters my mind._

_One… two… three… four… one… two… three… four…_

_I frown before bringing my hands up to lay them on his shoulders, I try to push him away from me but it as though he is rooted to the spot, like he's no longer there, an outer body experience, perhaps? Slowly but surely, the sound becomes louder. It appears in every part of my mind, every corner of my consciousness._

_One… two… three…four… one… two… three… four…_

"Adelaide?"

It's Hadvar.

My eyes spring open and the sound quickly disperses.

"Is everything alright?"

I glance around; The Doctor's back under the console, creating more noise than I am sure is necessary.

"What?" The Timelord questions; clearly not hearing properly, "What was that, Hadvar?"

I lay my hand on Hadvar's arm.

"It's nothing, just a headache." I shrug, making up an excuse to leave, "It's stuffy in here; I'm going to get some air."

He nods, although he is still untrusting of my actions.

"What?" The Doctor asks again, louder this time before pulling himself out.

I smile at his wayward hair and slightly grubby face; clearly, there is oil under the control panel.

I repeat that I am going for some air. He gives me the same look as Hadvar did before nodding. I return the gesture and stand from my crouched position, making my way out.

"Adelaide?" The use of my full name draws me back.

I poke my head through the gap that I used to leave.

"Don't wander off?" I question.

He smiles, "Got it in one."

I shake my head before finally leaving the ship.

**)()()()()()()(**

I pick up my torch from the ground before making my way back out into the larger area of the cavern. The market place is once again bustling with life and I narrowly miss being mowed down one or two times as wander through the crowds. I can feel eyes on me for the whole way; either guards or fascinated children being towed away by their parents. I smile slightly as my head slowly goes back to normal; it's not quite so heavy now; I don't feel quite as drowsy.

Coming to the end of the cavern, I see it splits; one way- I think the left- leads back to the TARDIS, the other, I do not know. After making a quick decision, I head left. Mainly because I vaguely know my way back. Even though I am not going far, you can never be too careful.

A few metres into the tunnel and I have switched my torch on before sitting on the ground, my back leans against the cool rock. The feeling of the damp seeping through my shirt a little is a welcome one. For it calms me slightly. I close my eyes, exhaling deeply; trying to console myself. My hands still shake a little and I rub them together.

I should have told him back there. I should have told The Doctor. Now, I'm not normally a stubborn person, so why do I find it so insanely difficult to explain this situation to him. Mind you, knowing him, he probably already has an idea, anyway. I can already tell that he knows something is going on. That much is almost blindingly obvious.

"I agree, you should tell him."

I freeze at the sound of the voice. I don't recognise it.

"Oh," It feigns worry, "Did I startle you?"

I look up, now. The sight that befalls me makes me stand instantly. I stumble backwards, away from the Rakoli. I can feel that my eyes are wide as I stare at it. My mouth moves but I make no sound. How is this possible? What is it doing here?

Clearly, however, I have panicked myself far too much; I become dizzy and soon my knees give way and I have to lean on the rock for support, still trying to back away. It is no good, though, for each step I make backward, the Rakoli doubles; coming closer towards me. Part of me wonders if I could sprint past it, back into the main cave but one look at the emotion in its eyes explains that I probably wouldn't get far at all.

"What are you doing here?" I eventually gain back my voice.

It laughs coldly; patronisingly.

"You didn't think that we merely resided on that little planet of yours, did you?"

I keep my mouth shut; not knowing how to answer. I should really get better at tackling these situations. I look back past it, back into the market place; hoping to attract attention. No one notices a thing, and I know I haven't been gone long enough for The Doctor to notice anything. I think of calling out but my voice, once again, appears to be stuck in my throat and I cannot do a thing about it.

"Adelaide?"

Its sing-song voice brings my eyes back to its face. A wide grin has spread across its features as it finishes—

"Run."

Without any hesitation, I do so.

**)()()()()()(**

After about thirty minutes of running and changing directions several times through their steering -Yes, there are more. I don't rightly no how many exactly, but what I do know is that I am now completely lost- My torch is slowly losing its power. Another half an hour of this and my guess is that I'll be running in the dark. My focus was on getting to the TARDIS. Of course, that was until I realised that there was more than one. They were herding me towards something; each of their moves had been deliberate and planned. I do not know where they were planning on chasing me to, though, for I now stand at a dead end. Although, I am alone now- thank heavens for small mercies. They aren't here, or I don't think they are. I can't see them or hear them.

I don't dare look for them, however, and instead I slide down the wall of the tunnel, a tired whimper escaping my lips. I lay the torch on the ground beside me before stretching my legs out straight. The reaction to running is yet more evidence that I need to get fit. The coolness of the rock seeps through my jeans and shirt; cooling me. I am quite glad of it, actually. My hands lay on the moist dust on the ground as I blink myself calm.

Eventually, I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them. I'm entirely exhausted. Though I cannot bring myself to take my eyes away from the end of this particular tunnel; if a Rakoli decides to wander towards me, then I want to know about it. Not that I could do much, mind.

I blink, now, and for a brief moment, the world seems to slip out of place; everything goes white. So white, in fact, that my eyes begin to sting. I squint against the brightness and stand.

"Doctor?" I hope he's nearby but there's no sound to prove that he is.

My heart races as, once again, everything seems to shift. My eyes feel dry, now and I swallow before trying again—

"Doctor!"

My head throbs and my stomach begins to churn- whether it's with anxiety or not, I don't know. In fact, I don't understand a lot at the moment. Everything is fuzzy. Really fuzzy.

In a blind panic, I begin to feel my way forward; I keep both hands on the damp rock of the cave wall. Everything is distorted; it's as though I'm looking at two different rooms that have been pushed together; crammed in too small a space. I look at my feet; I'm walking on tiles- grey tiles. I bring the back of my hand to my mouth as a wave of nausea hits me. My knees feel as though they are about to give way, because of this, I grip onto any rock I can. I have to stay upright and I have to find The Doctor.

I look back down to the dirty tiles, only to find that my feet are now bare. I manage to choke out the word 'what' before the unsteadiness takes over and I fall flat on my face, my nose hitting the floor hard. I can already feel the blood trickling onto the tiles beneath me.

I groan loudly and shout something less than ladylike before bringing my hands back and trying to get myself up. I'm still lightheaded, however, and I merely hit the floor again.

I know I'm not where I was and I know I'm not wearing my jeans anymore. In fact, I'd guess it was a hospital gown. I'm warmer than I was but yet, somehow, colder. That doesn't even make sense, does it?

Hang on a minute. Hospital gown? White room?

Stuff the nausea, things just got serious.

I sit myself up quickly, my head spins and I feel as though I'm going to vomit but eventually I gain my bearings. I take several deep breaths; desperately trying to keep myself calm. It doesn't work; a choked sob escapes me and a hand flies to my mouth.

"No, no." A tear glides down my cheek; this can't be happening, "No, no, no. Please."

I am aware that I'm speaking to myself but I don't care. Anyway, it seems fitting, doesn't it?

For I am, once again, in a mental asylum.

I snap my gaze to the floor once more; it's covered in writing. My writing.

I cannot read it, though, for tears have blurred my vision. Furiously, I wipe them away and look around the room; studying it. It's most definitely my room at the asylum. The writing covers almost everything; the floor, the door, the wall it's even on the small chest of drawers in the corner, and the mirror. I glance down, only to see that the same word is scratched into my right arm. It looks fresh, as though it was done yesterday. I read it and quickly do a double take.

Eventually, I take my gaze from my arm, pursing my lips so as not to be sick at the grotesque sight. Although, had I been trying to get away from the word etched in crimson on my skin, I fail; the same word is written everywhere. One word that I remember all too well. Actually, it's more of a name. And it is all over the place, in my handwriting.

_Master._

**So, we're finished! I s'pose it took me long enough.**

**Massive thank-yous to ****kie1993****, ****Shadows In The Mood****, ****animemonkey13****, ****Waffles McTiny ****and ****Descent Into Chaos ****For reviewing throughout this, every single one has meant a lot so, thanks a ton!**

**Are any readers, besides the above, from **_**Times Change**_** still with this story? I really hope you are.**

**It may be a while before the next one of this series; I'm coming up to final term in school which means revision almost constantly. Because apparently us pupils don't have lives outside of school. Anyway, I will be hoping to keep updating my other fics as often as I can.**

**The next fic is, so far, untitled so it may help to add me to your alerts. Although, I will probably PM the reviewers, anyway.**

'**Til the next time!**

**Simpa **


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